


Lover

by shutterbugtraveler



Series: At Long Last (A Collection of post Endgame ScottHope One-shots) [6]
Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-20 13:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutterbugtraveler/pseuds/shutterbugtraveler
Summary: It's their first wedding anniversary, but as usual, life gets in the way, it always gets in the way. They're supposed to be making dinner together but now he's balancing a pizza box on his hand, holding two wine-filled glasses with the other, heading upstairs, because Hope's nowhere to be found, not in the kitchen nor in the living room, he's checked.ORIt's their first wedding anniversary, but instead of a fancy celebration, they're spending it at home.





	Lover

Scott's late. 

Hope might or might not kill him. Though, gathering from the intonation of her voice over the phone, she's not angry. 

It's their first wedding anniversary, but as usual, life gets in the way, it _always_ gets in the way. They're supposed to be making dinner together but now he's balancing a pizza box on his hand, holding two wine-filled glasses with the other, heading upstairs, because Hope's nowhere to be found, not in the kitchen nor in the living room, he's checked. 

"Hope?" 

Scott calls through gritted teeth because he's biting a stalk of rose, unfortunately, he wishes he has an extra pair of hands to carry the bouquet of roses he's bought. A soft humming of their favourite playlist fills his ears as he approaches their bedroom, and the air smells like vanilla, and he knows that Hope's most probably in the bathroom. Slipping inside the bedroom, he settles the pizza box on the table, proud because he hasn't manage to topple the pizza box, or spill a drop of wine and releases his bite on the rose. 

"Hope?" He calls again, doesn't want to alarm her, and he hears a faint, acknowledging hum from the bathroom. Biting the stalk of rose again, simply for dramatic purposes, he moves to the bathroom, nudges the door open with his elbow. It swings open gently, revealing his wife, reclining in the bathtub.

Wisps of light steam dances around in the air, and there are bubbles and bubbles piling up to the level of her shoulder. Her hair is tied up into a bun, strands of loose curls framing her face, cheeks flushed pink from the steam, looking absolutely ethereal. She had left the small window open, letting in the cool autumn air and the distant sounds of the city.

"Hey," Hope greets, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. 

Absent-mindedly, he takes the rose out from his mouth. "Am I in heaven?" Scott comments in lieu of greeting and stares at her stupidly, not blinking, completely besotted. 

She tips her head back and laughs, playfully giving him a splash, specks of suds staining his shirt, but he doesn't mind. He loves how her laugh is light and loose, stripped off her protective armour, reserved only for him. 

"This is for you," he hands her the rose and she takes it, "because you're beautiful," he compliments to which Hope rolls her eyes, despite the soft chuckle, her eyes fluttering shut when he presses a kiss on the top of her head. She smells the rose and takes the wine glass from him. By the way her dimples are popping, Scott knows she's failing miserably in hiding her emotions. 

"I see you've started without me," he perches on the side of the bathtub, grinning as he meets her gaze. 

"Thought I'll get a headstart first," her smirk reappearing as she takes a sip of wine, some of the suds slipping smoothly down her forearm, "how did the X-Cons do?" 

"Well, besides Luis almost having a meltdown, when have I ever failed in troubleshooting?" Scott shrugs cockily, "also, I'm finally getting a new desk," he grins lopsidedly. "Oh, and, _wait_, do you _even_ want to know?" 

Hope shakes her head lightly, smiling, "try me."

Despite the look of annoyance she occasionally displays whenever he's talking about his three friends, it's difficult to deny that they have come to form an odd family. Always feeling like she never belonged anywhere, sometimes, she still has trouble believing that she has finally found a place she's willing to call home, in spite of the significant disparities between all of their personalities. 

"We've upgraded from fancy raspberry cookies to fancy pastries, so, a toast to that," Scott holds his wine glass out and Hope, still smiling, clinks hers against his. 

They've been recovering, slowly, from the ordeal, along with the world. Both realising life isn't just made up of grand, momentous occasions, because there's so much beauty in ordinary things.

Waking up with her hair in his face, limbs tangled together, while she whispers sweet nothings in his ear. And then there are morning kisses, kisses for him while he makes breakfast, and goodbye kisses before they leave for work. Whisking her away for surprise lunches, knowing full well she has a habit of skipping meals while she brings take away to the X-Cons office when he's working late. Most nights, they lie curled up together on the couch after their sparring session, talking, or relishing in quiet moments. And even when they're immersed in work, they're never far apart from each other. 

Sure, there are bad days when he wakes up dripping in sweat, heart thumping wildly but it subdues when she reaches for him and pulls him close, nestling his head against her chest. And then there are days when Hope struggles with anxiety (as much as she likes to hide it), has to make sure she's not fading into ash, only to be pulled back into reality by Scott's warm, firm grip against her hand, because he knows. 

Scott drinks more than a sip of his wine, has trouble keeping his eyes from slipping downwards, as he watches Hope shifts into a comfortable position in the bathtub, the suds slipping and sliding a little, still keeping her mostly covered. Her feet is popping out at the end of the bathtub, and he takes a moment to appreciate her perfectly pedicured toenails. He sighs. She's perfect, more than perfect really.

He is famished. But, he's partial to going to bed hungry, though the idea seems very tantalising now. 

Realising his vacant stare, a seductive grin spreads on Hope's face as she interrupts his straying thoughts, "don't you wanna join me?" She raises a suggestive brow. 

Scott downs his wine in a gulp, his other hand already unbuttoning his shirt, "thought you'd never ask," he grins goofily. 

There's a splash of water mingled with Hope's laughter later. 

... 

They finish the pizza hours later, under the dim lights, on the bed, half covered by the covers. The air is cool as they'd let the windows open, the chilly breeze rustling by, curtains fluttering gently. 

Hope, leaning on Scott, who's sitting up, back against the headboard, careful not to leave the pizza crumbs on the bed because she doesn't like it, while her elbows are propped up comfortably on his thighs. It's a miracle that she's even letting them eat on the bed, but he figures today's an exception. 

Scott watches her wipe pizza grease off her cheek, then takes a bite off it after, the last piece of it. It makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world because Hope Van Dyne is eating a 5$ pizza with him, like it's the best meal in the world. 

"What?" She asks with her mouth full, still chewing, as she notices the wide grin that's spreading on his face. 

Scott is trying hard not to laugh because Hope would never talk with her mouth full in public. _Jesus_, he loves her. "Have I told you that I love you today?" 

Hope swallows, doesn't need to think twice because, yes he did - with the Post-It note that he had left on the kitchen counter along with her breakfast. With the affection he shows her everyday. With the little things he'd do for her. 

"Scott?" She climbs closer, folds herself towards him. "I love _you_," she whispers, the dim lights illuminating the outline of his wide, ridiculously charming smile as she kisses it, his hands already trailing up her back, tugging up her shirt as he goes, while he kisses her back. They wrap themselves around each other, the empty pizza box left alone at the side of the bed. Outside, leaves fall in the cool wind.

No fancy restaurant. No fancy dinner. No fancy celebration. 

Because they're enough for each other. Just the two of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Probably the last ScottHope fic that I'd be writing for now and if they ever have a third movie, I might be back. But, I'm always sticking to this fandom, thank you guys for your kindness. 😉
> 
> Twitter @shutterbug89


End file.
